


A Trespasser Be

by coolant



Series: Jan, The Bull, and The Wolf [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dream Sex, F/M, Fade Sex, Post-Trespasser, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4902625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolant/pseuds/coolant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas takes to the fade after the events of Trespasser and seeks out Lavellan to find her having a dream-tumble with The Iron Bull. In a moment of weakness, he intrudes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trespasser Be

What is that old Dalish saying?

"May the Dread Wolf take you?"

And so he had.

Solas knows she remembers this all to well; he can see it in the lines of her face. His vhenan, however stoic, still can't hide that particular pain. He remembers, too, when the taste of her is still fresh on his lips, as he crosses through the Eluvian to leave her bowed on the ground in agony and alone. Once across the threshold, his knees buckle and he presses his shoulder to the wall to stop from falling.

He remembers her, pressed up against the wall in her quarters, the shallowness of her breath as he held her, planting kisses on her bared neck.

"Solas," She had said with urgency. "Take me."

"Ma nuvenin." His voice was dark, his teeth sharp. He pulled her to the floor.

It was given, but he should not have taken. Twice he lost himself in her while at Skyhold, his mind hazy with the whole of her. The feel of her skin, the sting of her wit. The feeling of her writhing against him, pleading for contact.

Solas feels the dull burn at the base of his belly and the ache in his chest. Too much. He took too much, gave too much- _he should not have kissed her_.

He pushes past the doorway and lowers himself to the ground, a stinging in his eyes. He removes his armor, his pelts and his metals. He removes Fen'Harel. _Solas_ , he is _Solas_ for a moment. A man, naked, quaking like a child, running his hands over his face.

 

\---

 

Solas lies down on his bed, fashioned in the way of ancient Arlathan. Pillows and furs piled together, plush and invitingly decadent- a nest, of sorts. He curls himself into a blanket, feeling heavy. The sun still hangs low in the sky but the sleep he craves comes anyway.

This is not the first time he’s sought her out in dreams. But it has been years since the last time. He finds her where he always did- at a clearing by a stream. A place from her youth in the Free Marches, perhaps. He never knew. He never asked.

He is surprised to find she is not alone.

A Qunari. _Iron Bull_ looms over her as she lies in the grass, brushing hair from her face. His smile is sweet and it makes Solas’ stomach twist, souring his dreaming serenity. He stays by a tree a distance from the clearing, fingers digging into bark.

Iron Bull leans into her, pressing kisses to the crook of her neck. She hums- even in dreams she hums in pleasure, the same way she did the few times he’d touched her. A happy vibration he could still feel in his bones.

She says something to the Qunari and he laughs, nibbling at her jaw. She runs a hand along his shoulder, nails dragging over his skin, and he takes her hips, grinding his thigh between her legs. She gasps and clutches his face, pulling him into a passionate kiss and they both moan.

Solas’ breathe catches in his throat, suddenly feeling very warm. He should stop watching. These are her dreams, her private fantasies. But he can practically smell her, almost feel the way she presses against her partner. He can taste her on his tongue. His leggings tighten.

Their kiss continues and Solas cannot break away from the sight of her, alive and wriggling beneath Bull. She catches his leg suddenly and flips them over, Iron Bull’s back slamming onto the ground. He chuckles in approval, cupping her face and dragging his teeth along her throat. She sits up, rolling her hips against his.

She looks up and her gaze meets Solas’. Her eyes are direct and awake. She knows he’s watching. She smiles then and leans down to kiss Bull sloppily.

There is a moment, a beat, and suddenly Jan and Bull are naked and she lowers herself onto his cock, moaning loudly. She rides him, sweat beading between her breasts, her face flushed. Then Iron Bull shifts and pins her down, pressing her wrists into the ground and she holds them there as if they were tied, letting him have his way.

Solas is painfully erect, now. Seeing her splayed out, helpless and enraptured, makes his belly boil. She shoots him another look, almost smirking, her eyes heavy with lust. Solas feels his face twist into a snarl.

He strides to them and brushes Bull aside, vanishing him like a cloud of smoke. Jan gasps, startled when the man above her is Elven instead of Qunari.

“Fen’Heral,” She grits her teeth, pulling at what had transformed into her restraints, the red silk around her wrists that disappear into the ground. “This is my dream, not yours.”

Solas says nothing, rendered dumb by the sight of her. So close, so bare- rosy and smelling of arousal. He runs a hand over her cheek, down to her breasts. She has both of her arms, still. At least in her dreams she is unmarred by the Anchor. He rolls a nipple between his fingers and she shivers.

“You put on quite a show, vhenan.” He murmurs, his hand trailing down her abdomen, his lips all-too-close to hers. He runs a finger over her cunt, feeling its heat.

“Don’t call me that.” She spits. He growls and kisses her; she groans, kissing in return, tongue meeting tongue. She wraps her quaking legs around his hips, unbridled and desperate. _This is wrong_. A voice somewhere in his mind chides Solas, but he is too far gone. He tugs his cock from his leggings and slides into her with little resistance and a slick noise

Her silken restraints vanish; perhaps she has regained control of her own dream. Her hands fly to his scalp, clawing at his skin as she hisses obscenities in his ear saying _yes, yes, yes_.

Then The Iron Bull returns.

“You took my spot.” A low growl comes from behind, a large hand gripping Solas’ shoulder. It was her who brought him back her, perhaps to tease Solas. Jan laughs, still bucking into Solas, casting a lusty gaze at Bull and scratching red streaks down the Elven man's shoulder-blades.

“Perhaps you should make yourself useful, The Iron Bull.” He purrs, sliding out of Jan and teasing her clit with a delicate finger, eliciting a moan. If she is disappointed that Solas is now directing her dream, she is not showing it. “Hold her still.”

Bull, as if following any other order, stands her up and takes hold of her arms. She leans into him, wobbling, thighs slick with her arousal. Solas examines her face, his body almost flush with hers. Her breathing his fast and her cheeks are red and she squirms against Bull as if she wants to break free and fight The Dread Wolf.

“Well?” She asks, her voice throaty with a mix of desire and rage. He answers by kneeling before her, taking her clit into his mouth and sticking two fingers inside her. She tastes as good as he remembers- exactly so, the same tangy taste from a memory now years old. She feels the same when she comes, violently twitching around his fingers, clawing at Iron Bull’s arms and screaming his name. His _real_ name.

“ _Solas.”_   She moans, begging for him. Bull plays with her nipples and kisses her jaw and neck. Bull takes Solas’ fingers and licks them clean of her, teeth grazing over knuckles. Despite himself, Solas feels a shoot of heat in his already throbbing cock. Then he takes her hips and wraps her legs around his waist, sliding back into her. When she moans, both men do the same.

His thrusts are steady like a wave. Bull circles her clit and she comes, squeezing around Solas till he can’t help but come with her. They are all still and panting for a moment, the scent of sweat and sex mingling with the smell of mud and grass.

In the wake of his climax, Solas presses close to her, knowing he will not feel her this way again. He cannot keep allowing himself these selfish dalliances, not with what he must do. He savors every inch of her skin as if to memorize them, whispering her name. He then pulls back and palms her cheek. Her face is still, almost serene. He kisses her- _just one last time-_ and in return, she bites him.

He looks to her, feeling his freshly-split lip, feeling pain and tasting blood. She looks right back at him, her lips stained with red, dragging a hand down Iron Bull’s cheek as she speaks.

“Tel’abelas, Fen’Harel.”

\---

When Solas wakes, he reflexively touches his lip and finds it lamentably in-tact.

_I’m not sorry, Dread Wolf._

“I'll stop you, _Fen’Heral_. Even if it kills me.”

Harden your heart, he had told her, steel yourself for the coming battle.

And so she had.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how cogent this turned out but! Oh well. I wanted to do more threesome bits but it ended up just seeming weird because I'd established Solas was really only interested in seeing Jan again. I kept that one bit about Bull and Solas' fingers in because I felt like it but it's kinda out of place?
> 
> Either way, hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
